Loving You
by Dizzy Donuts
Summary: There's a new Inspector in Saint Marie and he attempts to solve a new case but what will crack first: the case or the team?
1. Chief, There's been a murder

The hooded figure looked around before pulling out a knife from their pocket. They grabbed the frightened woman by the neck, the figure plunged the knife through her chest, her last sound an ear-piercing scream. Thick, scarlet blood leaked from her wound down her ivory coloured summer dress. She fell to the soft, golden sand. The figure dragged her by the arms and concealed her beneath a shady willow tree. They then attempted to cover their tracks and ran away.

"Tibbles!" the woman called, "Here, Tibbles!" Her disobedient dog was usually a tiny bit more behaved than this. The shabby grey dog started barking at something amongst the trees. The old woman flicked a speck of sand off her wrinkled, tanned face before calling, "Tibbles, what have you found?" She walked up the beach to her dog. She pulled the branches away with her rough hands.

"There you are, you mischievous thing," She said, before her eyes had time to adapt to the dim light inside the tree's shady shelter, then she screamed.

Shivering, she whispered, "Oh my goodness!" The woman, Blanche, put her dog on its leash and hurried back to the nearest phone box, she dialled the number of the Honoré Police.

"Hello, Dwayne? There's a dead body on the beach!" Blanche cried; she was wise and knew almost everyone in Saint Marie.

"Okay, alright," Dwayne replied, "We'll be there right away, see you in a minute Blanche." He put the phone down carefully and looked around the office to his new chief DI Humphrey Goodman. "Chief, there's been a murder!" Dwayne looked to Fidel, "Blanche's has found a body on the beach!"

"Right," Humphrey said, choosing a pen from a pot but knocking it over in his general clumsiness. He straightened his beige jacket and walked out leaving his pens scattered on the floor and his new desk. Camille rolled her eyes and followed him out to their police car. The brown car sat faithfully near the station, police markings showing off the owners. By routine Camille automatically climbed into the driver's seat then slammed the door and fastened her seat belt, Fidel and Dwayne positioned themselves on their motorbike, Humphrey climbed in to the passenger's seat, timidly shutting the door (but then having to open it again because he shut is trouser leg in it) slightly dazed by the others way of routine.

When they arrived at the beach they were met by a frantic Blanche and a bored Tibbles. "She's over there, in the tree!" Blanche exclaimed with a slight French accent, "I think it is Katrina!" The four officers followed Blanche and her wild dog to the tree.

"And you found her?" Dwayne questioned.

Blanche nodded as her yellow blouse rippled in the slight summer breeze, "Well, Tibbles here did."

"Do you know where she could've been last night?" asked Dwayne, knowing Blanche as a large source of local gossip/knowledge.

"I know she was invited to a party at the Fredrick's house."

"Thanks Blanche." Blanche then left knowing she had told Dwayne all she knew; she had decided to go to her favourite café.

Dwayne turned to Humphrey, "Her name is Katrina Oatley and she was at a party in the Fredrick's house last night." Humphrey pulled a napkin, which he used for last night's meal, out of his pocket and wrote down the information he had just been told. Camille pushed apart the branches and saw the body lying on the ground with a knife through the chest, her thoughts turned to DI Richard Poole who she had feelings for, she clamped her hand to her mouth and left the crime scene. Dwayne, Fidel and Humphrey followed her with their eyes.

"Is she okay?" Humphrey asked. Dwayne and Fidel shrugged.

"Fidel, collect the knife and send everything off," Humphrey told him, "Dwayne, what can you do?"

"I'll go back to the station and look her up," Dwayne replied.

"And I'll find Camille and we'll go to the Fredrick's house," Humphrey said but Dwayne and Fidel had already gone to their jobs. Humphrey made his way back to the car, tripping on a stone as he went. He jumped into the passenger's seat (this time managing not trap part of his clothing in the door) next to Camille who was slumped over the wheel with tears on her favourite green jeans.

"Camille," he whispered, "Are you okay?" Camille sighed as she sat up straight, leaning her head against the head rest.

She gave a weak smile, "Fine." Her big, brown eyes were still watery so Humphrey took out his checked handkerchief and handed it to her. She dried her eyes and returned it to him.

"Can I ask what the matter is?" a concerned Humphrey quizzed.

"Where are we off to?" replied a secretive Camille, changing the subject entirely.

"The Fredrick's house," Came Humphrey's answer, "We can go later if you don't feel up to it." In reply Camille buckled up her seat belt and drove towards the house.


	2. The Fredrick's

Camille and Humphrey drove in silence the entire way to the Fredrick's secluded villa. Humphrey was thinking the whole time about Camille and if she was feeling okay, he had no idea why, he was just really concerned. They pulled up on the Fredrick's expensive drive and got out of the car. Humphrey walked up to the house and rang the bell. Camille followed him very slowly. When Camille got to Humphrey's side a middle-aged woman answered the door wearing thick sunglasses and a bright orange bikini.

"Yes, what do you want?" The woman snapped. The corridor behind her was painted warm terracotta and the floor was marble.

"Mrs Fredrick?" Humphrey asked, she nodded, "Honoré police, we found a body on the beach this morning and we believe that she was at this house last night." She continued to look straight at the officers, her expression didn't change.

The woman shrugged and said with no hint of compassion in her voice, "Who?"  
Camille spoke for the first time, "Katrina Oatley." Mrs Fredrick gave her a dark, dirty look.

"You'd better come in," Mrs Fredrick said coldly, "Ignore the mess." Mrs Fredrick pulled Camille and Humphrey by the arms before they had time to protest.

"Anne! Who is it love?" yelled a male voice.

"The police," Anne replied; she flicked her dark brown hair from her also tanned face, "That's my husband, George." She told them in the same icy manner. They walked into a vast lounge; it would've been beautiful if it wasn't so messy, there was rubbish everywhere, you could see there had been a party. There was a gigantic television on one wall, a large stereo and a long, glass coffee table. There was someone lying across the white, plant patterned sofa. Anne huffed as she threw the persons legs of the sofa.

"Move Melissa," She commanded. A girl sat up, she must have been about fourteen; she had long dark hair, the same as Anne's, but apart from that she looked utterly different; she was wearing a loose pink dress with little, black boots.

"Who are these people?" She asked in a strong French accent-also different to Anne- peering at Camille and Humphrey curiously.

"The police, Katrina has been killed," Anne stated blankly. Tears formed in Melissa's eyes and she buried her face in her hands.

"Are any of the other guests still here?" Camille questioned, eyeing Melissa carefully then looking back to Anne who nodded.

"Yes, they all are," Anne said, "None of them felt save to go home." Camille's confused face asked the question she didn't have time to, "They were all pretty drunk." Anne said with a slight glare at Humphrey who was looking around the room for any signs of clues. His phone then rang.

"Mmm…. Okay…. Yes… I'm coming back now…" Humphrey said into his phone, then snapped it shut and looked to Camille, "Dwayne wants us back at the station."

"Anne, can you give us the names of the other guests?" Camille asked. Anne rolled her eyes and gave them the names which Humphrey then wrote down on his napkin. Anne then quickly showed Camille and Humphrey out before they had a chance to properly talk to George, Melissa or any of the others, she slammed the door the instant they were out of it.

On the way back Humphrey's phone rang again. It was Dwayne.

"Their names are Anne, Melissa and George Fredrick, Harry Smith and Stephanié Thwaites…. Yes… we're almost there now… yes I get it's urgent, we are just pulling up," Humphrey told Dwayne down the phone. Camille and Humphrey got out of the now stationary car.

"That Anne was very rude," Camille said as they walked up the stairs to the station.

Humphrey replied, "Yes, definitely." They entered the station to find Dwayne and Fidel both staring intently at Dwayne's computer screen.

"Dwayne, what is so urgent?" Humphrey asked. Dwayne wore a serious expression as he looked at Humphrey something that was very unusual for him.

"I searched each one of the suspects including Blanche and the only one who did have a criminal record?" Dwayne told him. Camille made a bit of a noise as she went and sat on her desk.

"Melissa?"

"No, Katrina."

"Hmm…"

"The crimes vary from shoplifting to assault," Fidel informed.

Camille looked shocked, "So what you're saying is they are all criminals?"

"Pretty much," replied Dwayne, his eyes flicked back to the computer screen, "Oh and Anne is not Melissa's real mother."  
"Who is?" Camille asked.

Dwayne looked at his small audience, "Katrina."  
"So, then why does she have the Fredrick surname?" Humphrey asked looking curiously at Dwayne.

"Anne adopted her and she was originally George's daughter," Fidel responded. Humphrey went to his white board, took up a pen and began to get all the information down, Dwayne printed pictures and attached them to the board.

"We need to go back and talk to Anne, I think," Humphrey said and left the station yet again. Dwayne casually walked over to Camille, she looked up at him.

"Are you okay? You seemed a little off earlier," Dwayne asked.

Camille gave her weak smile again, "It reminded me of…" her voice trailed off.

"Yes, it reminded me too," Dwayne said and patted her shoulder lightly, "It even reminded Fidel."

Tears formed in her eyes again as she said, "It's just so unfair, we had just got used to each other."

Returning to The Fredrick's got even more of a cold welcome.

"You again?" Anne snapped, "If you're looking for the others they have already gone."  
Humphrey smiled, "Actually we are looking for you." She pulled them inside again. This time they were met by a cleaner house and George instead of a distressed Melissa.

"Mrs Fredrick?" Humphrey asked, "Is it true that you are not Melissa's mother?"

"Yes, what would make you think that brat was related to me?" Anne retorted with a glare. Mrs Fredrick who was now wearing a loose fitting white dress obviously didn't like being questioned.

"And George is the father?"

"How is that any of your business?"

Humphrey looked straight at her, "We just need to know."

"Yes, George is the father," Anne looked a little uncomfortable, "He had an affair with that Katrina, god knows why, she wasn't exactly pretty."

"How did it make you feel?"

"I really don't see what this has got to do with you," Anne said furiously, "I much preferred that other silly man, what was his name? Richard? I can see why he got killed though, he was rather annoying."

"How dare you?" Camille raised her voice, "DI Poole was an honourable and respected man!"

"Really, because I found him ridiculous and contemptible," Anne replied.

"You don't have describe yourself that way," Camille replied in her mischievous manner, trying to make light of the heated situation. Anne huffed and slapped Camille. Camille pushed her heavily to the marble floor.

"Call Fidel," She yelled at Humphrey, when Humphrey stood there looking confused she yelled, "NOW!"

Fidel arrived quickly arresting Anne for assault to an officer; little did anyone know she used her phone call to talk to the Commissioner Selwyn Patterson. His familiar figure darkened the doorway causing all four of the now present officers to turn around.

"Commissioner!" Dwayne said surprised quickly closing the game on his computer.

He smiled amused by Dwayne, "It's alright team, I just want a small chat with Sergeant Bordey." Camille stood up shocked by him calling her by her official title, then she that there was a prisoner so that could be the reason why. She followed the Commissioner on to the porch; inside Dwayne moved closer to the window, shortly followed by Humphrey, Fidel didn't move, shaking his head at his other eavesdropping colleagues.

"Camille," the Commissioner said in a friendly manner, "Anne Fredrick called me; she said you insulted her, why?"

Camille looked at him then to the wooden porch flooring, "She insulted Richard's memory."

"I think that maybe you should take a back seat on this case, maybe you need a break."

"No… I'm fine- honestly!"

The Commissioner smiled, "I like your enthusiasm however I will have no arguments, you will go home and work in the office on your return."

"But…" Camille began to protest.

The Commissioner looked at her sadly, "There could be trouble if you don't."

"Fine," She replied knowing that this was one battle, try if she might, that she wouldn't win. The sound of footsteps going back into the office caused Humphrey and Dwayne to return to their seats rapidly, Humphrey accidentally knocked a pot plant off of the window sill, the smashing breaking the now eerie silence. Camille entered first, not catching any of her colleagues' eyes, and picked up her bag, she then left quickly.

"She is not feeling herself at the moment, so she will be taking a back seat on this case," The Commissioner said, and then he smirked at the broken plant pot, "Not likely you didn't know though, you might want to pick that up." He turned on his heel and left chuckling.


	3. Gathering Evidence

Whilst Humphrey was attempting to clean up the smashed pot, Fidel was typing and clicking rapidly on his computer.

"Sir," He called, "The preliminary report is back."

"Yes?" Humphrey asked.

"There was a deep knife wound, and bruising to the neck and wrists," Fidel said.

Humphrey sighed, "So now we know she attempted to struggle and the attacker held her back." He did one final sweep of the pot remnants.

"Maybe, I should go and talk to the Fredrick's neighbours," Fidel said. Humphrey nodded. Fidel turned off his computer, picked up his hat and left.

Dwayne looked at Humphrey curiously; he had now returned to his seat and was staring endlessly at Camille's desk.

"Do you think she's okay?" Dwayne asked.

Humphrey broke his stare, "Yes, she'll be fine."

Meanwhile…

Catherine stroke Camille's dark, curly hair as she sat with her head in her arms on one of many tables in her mother's bar, La Kaz.

"What happened?" Catherine spoke with compassion in her voice; she hated it when her daughter was upset.

Camille moved her head up and put her chin on her arms, "I miss him, and then some silly woman goes and insults him."

"Who?"

"Richard." She wiped a stray tear from her face, now sitting upright and looking at her mother with her large, brown eyes. A cough came from the door, making both of them jump. Fidel walked in and sat down with Catherine and Camille.

"How are you?" He said with a nice smile.

"Fine," Camille said quietly.

Catherine smirked, "I heard Humphrey broke the pot." Fidel laughed and Camille gave a small smile. Another familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

"Fidel, shouldn't you be working?" asked the Commissioner.

"Yes, sorry," Fidel got up and left to continue his enquiries. The Commissioner then took his chair and sat down heavily.

"Camille, I just want to apologize for sending you home," he smiled politely at her than at Catherine, "I know you're good at your job but Anne Fredrick was planning to cause a stir."

"I understand totally," Camille said.

Catherine smiled, "Drink, Commissioner?"

"Only lemonade, I'm still on duty," The Commissioner smiled. Catherine smiled and got up to get his drink.

Later…

Fidel entered the station to see Humphrey and Dwayne looking at the whiteboard. He cleared his throat to make the others aware of his presence. They both looked at him.

"George Fredrick was heard having an argument with Katrina Oatley at about eleven pm," Fidel told them.

"Maybe we should go talk to him," Humphrey suggested. Dwayne nodded and went out to start the car.

George was friendlier at welcoming the officers than his wife. He politely let them into the house, they entered the living room and Melissa was back on the sofa.

"Mr Fredrick, you were heard having an argument with Katrina Oatley at around eleven last night. Would you like to tell me what it was about?" Dwayne questioned.

"Er… well… Anne doesn't really want, sorry didn't want, Katrina around anymore, she thinks she has a bad influence Melissa." George replied.

"So, what led to the argument?" Humphrey asked.

George looked at the floor, "I was trying to tell Katrina to leave but she didn't want to, she wanted to stay with her daughter."

"Why would you want my mum to leave?" Melissa snapped standing up and walking in front of her father, "You said you still loved her." She said more quietly.

"I didn't want her to leave, Anne did."

"Why do you always do what that witch says she isn't in charge of you!" Melissa yelled.

"Please Mel don't do this, not now," George said in a soothing voice. Melissa sighed and walked out.

"Sorry about that," George said.

"So, the argument…" Humphrey began.

"I wasn't there okay, after the argument I was here all night!" George said quickly.


	4. Not Coping

It had been roughly two days since Camille had left the office and hadn't yet returned. The team had made little-to-no progress on the case.

….

"Ok," Humphrey began, "Motives, who has one?"

Fidel glance up from his work, "Anne Frederick. George still loves her and she is jealous."

"George had an argument with Katrina," Dwayne added.

"Yes but he loves her, why would he kill her?" Fidel responded.

"We need to question Harry and Stephanié," Humphrey said, "And…er… maybe because she wants to take Melissa away from him."

"I'll get their addresses," Fidel replied.

….

The journey to the first address (Harry Smith's holiday villa) was made in total, unbroken silence. Fidel stared out of the window and watched the beauty of Saint Marie fly past him. Humphrey clung to the steering wheel, knuckles white due to the tight grip. It was tense. Very tense. The wheels screeched as the car reached the destination. It lurched to a halt. Fidel and Humphrey stepped out and knocked on the door.

"Hold on!" yelled Harry. They heard thudding as someone ran to the door. It was flung open.

"Er… Hello!" Harry said, he was short with dark hair.

"Hello Mr Smith. Honoré police, we need to ask you some questions. Can we come in?" Humphrey murmured.

"Um…" Harry looked around, "Of course." He slowly allowed them to pass him. They could tell he was going to be very reluctant.

"So," Humphrey began when they reached Harry's living room, "Where were you three nights ago?"

"I was at the party right until the morning, then I went home," Harry replied.

Humphrey sighed, "Can anyone confirm this?"

Harry hesitated for a long time, staring at the floor, "Yes."

"Who?" Humphrey asked.

"Anne Frederick."

"Okay."

"Did you hear an argument between George Frederick and Katrina Oatley at eleven?" Humphrey quizzed.

"No." Harry replied.

"Harry…" someone called from upstairs. Fidel and Humphrey gave him a questioning look.

"Why is Anne upstairs?" Humphrey asked.

"Why do you think?" Harry retorted, "Look, can you leave now?"

Humphrey turned on his heel and left, Fidel trailing behind him.

"Right, to Stephanié's," He stated.

Fidel looked at Humphrey, "Are you okay, Chief?"

"Fine."

Again the journey was tense. Fidel could sense his chief's, well he didn't know what it was but he could sense it.

"Stephanié, where were you after eleven three nights ago?" Humphrey asked in a bored tone.

"At the party all night," She replied with a smile Humphrey didn't return.

"Can anyone confirm this?"

"Yes, Melissa. I was comforting her, she heard the argument." She informed him.

"Great. Thank you." Humphrey replied. He walked out.

"Sorry, excuse me," Fidel said to Stephanié. He jogged out.

"Don't you think we should ask more questions?" Fidel asked Humphrey. Humphrey got in the car and started the engine. Fidel quickly jumped into the car.

….

"Sir?" Fidel asked as they were nearing Humphrey's house. Humphrey stopped the car and got out, he handed the keys through the passengers window to Fidel.

"Drive yourself back," He said.

….

"Fidel, where is Humphrey?" The Commissioner stood in the middle of the office, he looked concerned.

"I don't think he is coping very well," Fidel replied.

"What with?" The Commissioner asked. Fidel shrugged.


End file.
